Hunting for a Life
by Huntress4455
Summary: What if Graham was, somehow, able to stop Regina from ripping out his heart? What if he hadn't been in the Evil Queen's power all those years? In the Enchanted Forest and in Storybrooke? Huntswan, AU.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Summer hiatus was killing me, so I decided to write an AU fanfic. It's exactly what the description says. The first three chapters will take place in FTL (they'll be pretty lengthy) and the rest will take place in Storybrooke. So, without further ado, let's begin, shall we?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own OUAT.**

Chapter 1

The golden sun shone down upon the depths of the kingdom's forest, illuminating every living being it cast its rays upon. Slivers of morning dew rested upon the emerald green blades of grass, giving them a youthful complexion. Flowers and the leaves of trees happily danced in the smooth, caressing touch of the calm breeze. Animals went about their daily routine and tasks, oblivious to the fact that a newcomer would soon be accompanying them in the depths of their woods. Two newcomers, actually.

From the very edge of the forest, where a distant kingdom could be spotted, two figures slowly emerged, walking at a steady pace. Even from a distance, nearly any logical being could tell that they were polar opposites. The tallest one, a man, was clothed in a deep, dark suit of armor. A helmet topped with tall, dark spikes obscured the curly, brown hair upon his head. He walked stiffly, due to the fact that his armor was not set upon his body appropriately. A sheathed sword, a weapon he had no idea how to wield, hung loosely at his belt.

The shorter one, a female, showed off the very opposite aura of power the other did. She wore a cream white dress, adorned with dark spirals of flowers at the hem. It billowed under her as she slowly walked the match the pace of her companion's stiff walk. A light brown cloak was wrapped around her shoulders to keep her warm in the event of colder weather. At her belt, there hung a knapsack of food in case either of them became hungry during their hike. Her dark ebony hair fell loose around her shoulders, nearly reaching as far as her waist. The soft shade of her chocolate brown eyes was illuminated with the light of the sun's rays.

To any onlooker or bystander, they could have easily been seen as a pair of friends taking a stroll in the forest. Or perhaps they were related by blood. Or even connected by the strong bonds of true love.

But they were neither. The young woman was known and beloved throughout the kingdom as Snow White, daughter of the newly deceased King Leopald and his first wife, Queen Eva.

The knight by her side was not a knight at all. A huntsman, he was. Summoned by Queen Regina, he wasn't here with her just for a leisurely stroll around the kingdom's forest. No, he had a task to accomplish. A task that would reward him great riches if he prevailed. He was unsure as to what would occur if he failed to, but he didn't want to find out. The guards that had dragged him up to the castle weren't exactly pleasant and he'd hate to think what the Queen herself would do.

Torture, most likely; Or perhaps death. That was harsh, too harsh of a price to pay for failing to murder a little girl. Therefore, there was absolutely no excuse to not complete this job…was there?

* * *

"I don't understand. You're not going to kill m-"

"Run!"

His voice echoed through the depths of the woods he knew and loved so dearly when he gave this command. Thankfully, she didn't object. Gathering up her cloak, the princess sprinted off into the woods, tightly clutching the whistle he had fashioned for her in her hand. Her ebony hair flew in the wind as she ran. Eventually, she was but a speck in the distance, a great distance from the man who had just spared her life.

The said man sat down upon the rock Snow White had occupied less than a minute ago. He opened up the letter that she had given to him, the letter he promised to give to her "dearest stepmother". Another quick reading of the hastily scribbled letter had reduced him to tears yet again.

They silently ran down his face as he thought about what in the world this young girl, this innocent girl, had done to her to deserve such a wretched fate. And her stepmother…what a cruel, twisted creature she was; to invoke this type of punishment on her own _daughter? _It came second on the list of evil doings of humans he had observed throughout the course of his life (the first being, obviously, the slaughtering of wolves). Yet…not all of them were like that.

The huntsman stood up and brushed off the tears that had run down his face, crumpling up the letter. He certainly had been wrong about humans. Of course, he had just experienced a terrible wrongdoing of one, but her…this Snow White…she was the essence of purity and goodness in the land. She had the purest heart of anybody he had ever encountered in his land, man or beast. The fact that she had been willing to sacrifice herself for the good of her own kingdom (to, perhaps, her greatest _enemy_) was the bravest act he'd ever seen.

However…a thought stirred in his mind. Since a being could not be truly good or truly evil, she obviously had an eviler side to her as well. Therefore, could that mean that her evil side was-

"Enough,"

he mentally chastised himself. "_Whether she has a good or an evil side, it's obvious her good natured demeanor dominates her personality. She doesn't deserve such a cruel fate at the hands of her greatest enemy. That queen, her stepmother, she must be stopped…"_

Slowly, the huntsman began to hike in the brighter section of the forest to a meadow. There, he always seemed to find himself calm and at peace with his natural surroundings. A familiar, yet beautiful, sight would meet his eyes when he entered that paradise.

Lush, flowing streams of crystal blue water slowly trickled downwards to the direction of the trees; tall, evergreen ones that could withstand the harshest temperatures of the environment. The animals were, by far, his favorite part. Birds singing their hearts out in the warm, bright air of the day, squirrels gathering nuts and acorns to consume later, and the stags…beautiful creatures who galloped at great speeds. The huntsman wondered how the dreadful feeling of holding one of their hearts, their poor, innocent hearts dripping with crimson blood, in his hand…

* * *

"Did you think you could fool me with a heart of a stag?!"

His plan had failed. There was no other word for it. It had just…failed.

The thud of the stag's precious heart upon the table caused him to wince. Now…this was the facet of human beings he had never particularly enjoyed; their anger. He wondered if this wicked woman even had a single spark of goodness inside the darkest wood of her evil. Most likely, her constant need for revenge (for who knows what?) against Snow White had abruptly snuffed it out.

She was absolutely livid. The darkness of her dress greatly corresponded with the attitude she was exhibiting right now. Her lips had elevated into a vicious snarl that was equivalent to the ferocity of his wolf brother. Of course, she could never withhold the pure goodness that the canine contained in his soul.

The huntsman instinctively backed away from her, but with a simple wave of her hand, the queen immediately shut the doors of the room with a prolonged bang. A bang that rung out a tune of hopelessness and distress.

He was trapped; Trapped with no visible form of escape in his sight.

"You're not going anywhere," the queen declared, enunciating every syllable of every word. She slowly made her way towards him as the huntsman simultaneously reared backwards into the cold, stone wall of the chamber.

"She doesn't deserve to die," he bravely defended, pressing his back against the wall to distance him from her as best he could.

It was futile. The queen stalked forth in the manner of a predator, a malicious grin raising the corners of her ruby, red lips. Suddenly, she sharply pushed her hand against his neck, trapping the passageway that allowed him to speak and breathe.

"That's not up to you," she spat at him as he desperately gasped for air. "I wanted a heart…and a heart I shall have."

The meaning of her words became quite clear and the huntsman realized that he was fighting a losing battle. He ceased his futile attempts of fighting her and closed his eyes.

The thought of death had never before entered his head, but now, as he was nearing its threshold, he curiously wondered how it would feel like. Countless animals had lost their lives for the simple need of his survival and now…he would feel what they had felt.

A childish thought came into his mind: would it hurt? Yes, most likely, there would be pain. Horrible, dreadful pain…but it wouldn't be for nothing. He kept reassuring himself that he was saving an innocent life here. If he had to die for the life of the bravest, most selfless creature of his species, then so be it. He only wished it wasn't at the hands of such a cruel, heartless person.

Suddenly, the queen plunged her free hand straight into the huntsman's chest. Immediately, her fingers felt the organ she needed: his heart. She was getting better at this. Her hand tightly grasped around his blood-red heart and she prepared to pull it out

All the while, the huntsman only felt pain in his chest. Deep, searing pain. He was much too frightened to even open his eyes and observe what she was doing. Most likely, he figured that she was simply ripping open his chest with a knife and taking _his _as compensation for Snow White's. A heart that he failed to retrieve.

Snow White…he kept her in his mind. The fact that he was saving her life her. She was the only reason he wasn't fighting this queen with every ounce of strength he had. Even the mere thought of her name sent a shiver down his backside and, somehow, the pain in his chest seemed to be subsiding…

In that very same moment, the queen's malicious grin morphed into a gleeful one. Like multiple times before, her hand tightened as hard as she could around her victim's heart and concentrated; Concentrated hard on removing it from its dwelling. Oh, this was a stubborn, little heart, but nevertheless, she could…not remove it.

She pulled once, twice, grunting with all her might. Her forehead creased in frustration and anger. This had never occurred before, not even once! What was going on?

The huntsman's eyes fluttered open when it came to his relived realization that he was unable to sense any pain from his chest at all. His eyes focused on Regina's expression, which resembled that of a child's who had been denied sweets. And then…it turned into pure anger. Droplets of sweat began forming on her forehead as she desperately tugged at the huntsman's heart, but to absolutely no prevail. It simply would not come out.

The huntsman forced himself to look down at his chest and was severely shocked to find that her hand was _inside _his chest. No blood poured out of it, no knife protruded it, and no gaping wound took place of it. Only a pale violet light surrounded it.

Strangely, it relieved him; to know nothing about it. It was a force he could not stop, an unnatural force. As always, ignorance was bliss.

"What the hell are you doing?" she screamed at him in anger, desperately grasping onto his stubborn little heart even though she knew that it would not come out.

Somehow (most likely, due to the queen's deteriorating strength), the huntsman's lips bravely formed the response he'd been dying to say.

"I certainly do not know, your Highness…but I suppose your thirst for revenge will not be quenched this time."

The very second he concluded saying that last word was the second the tables between the two adversaries turned. A pulse of a bright, white light shot out from the huntsman's chest, illuminating the very depths of the dark, ominous chamber. Never could the queen have predicted what happened to her next.

As the light shone throughout the entire room, an invisible force contained in it threw her backwards. The strength of it was enough to brutally slam her against the cold, stone wall of her own chamber. A gruesome sound emitted when she forcefully made contact with it. She lay on the floor, bleeding. Bleeding from a hardly visible crack on her head. As the blood gushed from it, she suddenly emitted a sound. A sound that expressed both anger and despair.

She wasn't dead.

It took a few moments for those events to register into the huntsman's mind. The fact that a blinding light had come out of nowhere. The fact that this seemingly invincible queen was impaired by unknown forces. The fact that she now lay crumpled on the ground, teetering precariously on the bridges of the mind's consciousness.

He took a deep breath…and bolted for the door. This was perhaps his only opportunity to escape this chamber from Hell and he wasn't about to let it pass.

His hand had just set upon the cold, metal latch that opened the doors, the very object that was the key to his salvation, when they opened. The force of it, accompanied with him being caught unprepared, threw him off his feet. He scooted backwards and immediately got back up…and then came face to face with the two guards that had escorted him inside.

They were wielding swords. Most likely, the commotion from his fight with the queen had attracted them here. He couldn't see their faces, let alone their expressions. However, he deduced that they were baffled. Merely pawns, they were to the queen. They weren't loyal to her. They were simply pets that obeyed her every command.

"Kill him…"

From the subconscious recesses of the queen's mind, she muttered out this command, loud enough to echo throughout the entire chamber. Feeble, it was, but it was enough for the guards to stiffly advance to the huntsman without a moment's hesitation.

For his entire life, the huntsman had lived in the forests. Unlike so many other humans his age, he had obviously acquired skills that others would not have. In the huntsman's case, he had developed quite a knack from fleeing from dangerous situations. This was the skill he decided to put into place now.

Even though he wielded no weapons, it didn't stop him from ducking down and sprinting straight through the open door, much to the surprise of the queen's pawns.

Never before in his life had he imagined traveling at such a speed with the mere use of his feet. He had only gone about one hundred meters when two arrows whizzed by either side of his head. Shocked by their sudden appearance, he forced himself to turn in his run and glance at his adversaries for a time span as brief as possible…but he could not spot them.

Frowning at the perplexity of the situation at hand, he stopped running and turned around, inhaling deep amounts of air to compensate for the loss of it during his escape. What he saw only managed to elevate his confusion much more.

The guards were on the ground with an arrow shot straight through each of their hearts. The objects that had ended their existence awkwardly protruded from their chests, a blood red wound slowly forming. A trickle of the red liquid that once coursed through their veins now seeped into the ground, staining the gray stones a bright crimson.

He had wanted an explanation, but his bafflement had only increased. Those arrows could not have traveled on their own, so…who had shot them?

"I had to repay you somehow…huntsman."

The angelic voice that filled the air was so familiar to him. He wondered who it was. He turned and was shocked to find a cloaked figure, a bow in his hand and a quiver full of arrows on his shoulder. No, not _his_…there was only one person in this entire kingdom that he could think had a debt to repay him. He was just coming to that conclusion of who this phantom was the second before she pushed off her hood and manifested herself to him.

"Snow White."

His lips formed and enunciated her name in such a revered tone, he felt as though she was a goddess for some sorts. If not that, she was a heavenly being of sorts…perhaps an angel. Yes that was it: an angel. A gorgeous, lustrous woman with beauty that surpassed anything in her presence. Even if she wasn't immortal, she was damn close enough…

He would have given anything in this world to simply stand there for the rest of eternity, gazing at the angel who had saved his life. An angel that had the purest heart of anyone he had ever seen…

"Come, they'll be on our trail any moment now."

The urgency in her tone, along with the deep warmth and comfort he felt as she abruptly took his hand into hers, snapped him back to reality. He focused on the insurmountable task at hand and then winced in fear. He desperately longed to escape this dark palace and never see it in his existence ever again…but how was it possible?

The princess seemed to be reading his mind, for just as he thought that, she ran in the direction of a dark alley that led into several hallways. Fully unknown to him, they were, but the princess seemed to know where they were going. He trusted her. After all, this was her birth place, her home…it was where she was destined to be: a kind, benevolent ruler of this fair kingdom. That is, until her stepmother had intervened and snatched the throne for herself, wanting her own daughter to be dead. Now what was she to do?

His mind dwelled upon this train of thought as he mindlessly followed the fair princess. Passage after passage, hallway after hallway. Once or twice, he had a strange feeling that a guard had somehow managed to find him, but a quick glance to the floor confirmed to him that it was only the soft, rapid scurrying of a rat. He was surprised. People of these higher positions of society should have cleaner places to live. Even though he had never even dwelled in a place more advanced than a shack, this was a spark of logical thought that came into his mind. He wondered how it would be to live in such a grand place with no struggles of survival, no worries of anything, an abundant quantity of food…

It was a habit of his to dwell upon thoughts and not pay attention to his surroundings, something he knew was _very_ dangerous in a hunt. So it was a surprise to him when Snow White stopped straight in front of him, facing a stone wall with a portrait of-he assumed-a royal monarch from the past. He nearly collided into her as she stood there, pondering something.

"What are you doing?" he nervously questioned her, keeping his voice low.

"This is it," she whispered so quietly that he found himself straining his ears to hear her.

To the huntsman's surprise, she squatted down on the floor and began running her hands over the dirty, coarse stones of the ground. He was baffled. Just as he was about to question why she was doing this, she emitted a sudden gasp of surprise.

"It's still here," she vaguely explained, a tone of surprise and excitement coloring her heavenly voice.

"What is here?" he asked, crouching down beside her.

"An underground passage that leads to the outskirts of the kingdom…to the forest we were in this morning. I haven't ever used it before, but…but I know it leads there. It's our only way out."

She grasped a silver handle that protruded from what appeared to be the ground, but closer observation proved to the huntsman that there was a door. Just large enough for a person of average size to fit through. She was right: this was their only way out.

With a desperate grunt, she pulled on the handle. It creaked and opened to a size just enough for a child to fit through and just enough for the huntsman to see what was down there: nothing.

His whole life, from what he could remember from it, centered on being in bright, sunny, wide-open spaces. In other words, land; a place that was above ground. The underground felt like a new, unknown realm to him. If there was something the huntsman never particularly liked, it was darkness. He hated the feeling of being blind, helpless, and ignorant. He felt lost in surroundings like that. He even hated the shadows of trees, simply due to the lack of light.

He didn't want venture in there. Though he knew it was simply an irrational fear of his, he couldn't help it. However…if it were for Snow White, for her safety, if it was the only way to escape…then he would do it.

The young princess pulled on the handle one last time, beads of sweat clinging to her forehead…and it wretched open. It was just as he feared: pure darkness.

"Thank goodness," she said, grinning so beautifully, it would have made him blush if it weren't for the situation at hand. "Come, we must go."

A wave of trepidation splashed over him and in the depths of his mind, he yearned to disagree…but then where would be go? There left only own solution here. He forced back every single bit of fear he had with this plan into the farthest reaches of his mind and nodded.

"Let's go."

And together, they plunged into the darkness.

**A/N: Thanks so much for reading and expect an update pretty soon. In the mean time, review! Constructive criticism helps me a lot, even something simple! Thanks! :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed, favorited, or are following the story! I wasn't expecting this story to gain this much popularity, but you guys surprised me! :D Here's the next chapter!**

Chapter 2 

Darkness.

It was all he had the ability to perceive. Left to right, west to east, south to north. They traversed in every direction he could think of. The only source of light in the depth of this unknown was a small lantern the princess had snatched from the castle before they left and was holding. His eyes concentrated on it with every ounce of strength they had. It was his only salvation. He couldn't afford to take his eyes off of it for even a mere second.

Occasionally, his ears strained to detect any sound from his surroundings…but there was nothing. Aside from their footsteps, the underground held no sounds of life at all. It was like a tomb: cold, dark, and dead. Above ground, from what he could hear, held no sounds either. They seemed to be isolated from life itself. This hellish salvation was both a blessing…and a curse.

Being unable to use even one of his hunting senses (in this case, hearing) frightened him. He depended on each and every one of them for his very survival. An eternity seemed to pass until he heard Snow White's angelic voice again.

"Just a couple hundred meters from here. Are you alright?"

He nodded…before he realized this action of his would go unnoticed in this darkness. Blushing profusely, he gruffly whispered, "Yes, I'm…I'm fine."

Indeed, true to her word, another minute or so of walking showed them both a rusty, metal ladder that was illuminated by Snow's lantern. It led up…back to their world.

Snow White gently set the lantern to the ground in order to provide herself both hands to climb. The huntsman scrambled after her, grasping on the cold, hard rungs as though his very life depended on it (which, in this case, it did to him). Within a minute, a hatch opened to the forest, where a burst of bright light greeted them. The familiar sounds and hubbub of the animals of the forest filled his ears as his eyes slowly readjusted themselves to his surroundings. When he was finally out and Snow had closed the hatch, he slowly let out a sigh of relief. A sigh he had been holding in for so very long.

He was finally home.

* * *

"Why don't you have a name?"

The bluntness of her tone of voice, accompanied by the curiosity of it, made him chuckle.

They were sitting next to a fire he had quickly fashioned for the two of them in order to provide them warmth on this cold, summer's night. A silvery moon shone down upon them, its rays illuminating the dark forest of the kingdom. The sounds of nocturnal animals going about their business filled the cool air.

The fire crackled, filling in the silence of the night, as the huntsman attempted to answer yet another one of her questions that proved to be personal to him. Surprisingly, he did not mind it.

"I've…never been given one," he finally replied. "My parents abandoned me and wolves do not speak the tongue of humans. They gave me a name that set me apart from everyone else in the pack…but I haven't interacted with beings of my own species. They found no need to call me anything…civilized."

Snow wrinkled her nose at the mention of his last word, "Civilized? Do you mean to say that humans you met before me didn't treat you…kindly?"

The huntsman let out a low chuckle at her understatement. "Kindly? If it weren't for the wolves and my tolerance, they could've killed me. I had enough strength to tolerate their insults, but…my wolf brother would always help me out in those situations."

It was perhaps a comforting hallucination of his, but he could've sworn that Snow moved closer to him (close enough that their shoulders were nearly touching) at the revelation of this.

"You poor thing," she softly whispered. When she touched his arm, he felt a spark of warmth spread from that limb to the entirety of his body. "But…you're not primitive. You're…a civilized human being. There's no other way to put it."

"Why…why do you say that?"

She looked at him, pity and admiration coloring the tone of her voice. "You're not primitive. Even though you've grown up in an environment that would normally deem you primitive, you don't act that way. You have polite manners and you have the most compassionate heart of nearly anyone I've met. Don't let anything else fool you: you're a human being."

The warmth that filled the huntsman multiplied itself until the cold temperature of the summer air seemed to be kilometers away. Words could not express the happiness he felt. She truly believed that of him? Did she mean every single syllable of every word she said?

He was having enough trouble trying to control the blush that filled his cheeks as their fire crackled on, providing more than enough warmth for him.

"So…what were you planning to accomplish with asking this question?" he finally asked Snow White.

"Hmm?" she muttered dreamily, deep in thought as to why people could've been so cruel to such a generous, kind-hearted man.

"About asking me as to why I don't have a name?"

The princess's thoughts abruptly snapped back to reality with his question. "Oh, well…I'd like to call you something other than…huntsman. Would you be alright with that?"

"Of course," he agreed without hesitation. "What name do you wish to call me?"

"Well…" she mused. "I had a friend when I was a child. He reminds me of you, actually."

"What was his name?"

"Graham."

He repeated that name. It felt right on his tongue. The tone of it, the way she said it, it seemed to fit him. Just like a missing puzzle piece. The term "huntsman" would be forever dismissed from his name. Graham would be the only thing he would ask people to address him by…if he met someone else other than Snow White.

"So…can I call you Graham then? It seems to fit you."

He smiled, feeling as though he was a new person with the possession of his new name. "Of course."

* * *

_Whoosh…_

The silver arrow narrowly avoided him as a sudden crack on the tree confirmed that the weapon had made contact on it…straight on the bull's eye.

Graham had been teaching her how to hunt with targets he had fashioned for her; unbeknownst to him that she already had experience with it. From where, he did not know. All he knew was that she had impressed him.

His eyes widened in surprise. She turned around, facing him with a grin that he'd never tire of. Even after a couple weeks of her surviving out here in these woods.

"Was that good enough?" she asked, not in a nervous sense, but as though she felt that a mistake had accompanied her in shooting the arrow.

He sensed that feeling: the feeling of wanting to do better. Wanting no mistakes in everything that one does. Even though he knew she could perform better, he knew that encouragement always helps.

"Of course, Snow. The very best."

"Oh, come now," she said, frowning at him in a playful sense. "You know I can do better than that."

"Well…you can. But for a first try, that was exceptional. Honestly."

"Do you really think so?" she asked, as though his opinion was the only one that mattered.

"Yes…yes, I do," he answered confidently, hoping she would be convinced.

Immediately after hearing his reply, she smiled and grasped another arrow from her quiver and shot it again. The twang of the arrow pierced the air as it hit the target, shaking as it rested on the center of the bull's-eye, yet again.

An angelic smile rested on her lips as she grabbed another arrow from her quiver. As the huntsman watched, he felt a sensation of warmth spread over his heart. Though he did not know it at the moment, it was love: an emotion he hadn't felt in his life.

He knew he cared for the young princess, wanted her to be safe, and always looked forward to spending time with her…but he was naïve to this new emotion. He wasn't sure how to react to it. Should he tell her? If so, would she reciprocate those feelings? Cynical questions, such as these, floated around in his head…but due to his inexperience of these emotions, he decided to let them go and not dwell on them at the moment.

Little did he know this action of his would prove to work against him in the near future…

* * *

He attempted to tell her his feelings. Multiple times over the course of a couple of weeks.

It didn't prove to be easy to him. He'd get the queerest sensation of his tongue being tied and he would lose track of what he was saying whenever he attempted to manifest the love he felt for her. However, much more pressing manners distracted him from worrying about a silly notion such as this.

Crops were dying around the kingdom and they soon realized that a lack of water, a drought, soon began plaguing their kingdom too.

The creek they always depended upon for cool, nourishing water dried up within a couple days and the two were forced to travel upriver to find lands with much more sustenance so they could survive.

Survival was not so simple now. A neighboring kingdom (ruled by King George) provided them a forest that had plenty of water…but food proved to be the problem for the two. Nevertheless, they still soldiered on through their hardship.

* * *

"You can't!"

"We have to. It's our only choice, Graham!"

The whinny of two chocolate brown horses and squeaking of the rusty, metal wheels of a carriage passed by them. The two were concealed in the thick, green shrubbery of the bushes that lined the trail. It was a trail that led from one kingdom to another, one often used by royals who preferred to take a scenic route in their journey.

Graham held Snow back as tight as he could without harming her. He let go the second the carriage rolled out of their sight. He had come here with her, convinced that this was a perfect spot for hunting. It was only now that realized she wasn't planning to hunt animals…but people. Carriages that passed by here were full of valuable treasures that, if sold, would cost a fortune. He didn't think the young princess would actually stoop this low. Sure, they had come down on harsh times, but stealing? That was a sin that he couldn't have her commit, especially to innocent strangers who had never done anything to her. She first suggested the idea before last night, but he had told her off. He believed she was joking.

Snow White glared angrily into the distance as though she believed the carriage would roll back to them. After a moment, she reflected her anger to Graham.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Why wouldn't you let me-"

"Snow, we talked about this," he gently responded. "It may seem like a good idea, but I assure you, guilt will overcome you the very second you-"

"And I suppose you have a better idea?"

Her harsh words pierced his heart like a poisoned blade had just slashed his heart into pieces. It wasn't the words; it was the tone she said them in. Never before had she spoken to him in this type of a mine. She sounded demented, evil even. It didn't fit her personality, her identity, who she really was.

The angelic smile that she always had on her face was gone, replaced by a frown etched deep into her forehead. He was unsure as to how to reply to this question. It felt rhetorical all of a sudden.

"You don't, don't you?" she replied scathingly. She ducked down into the thick shrubbery and got ready, just in the event that another carriage came their way. Her eyes observed their surroundings, ready to hunt at a moment's notice. He certainly had taught her well…too well.

"Snow-" he started, but was then cut off by a hand gesture that indicated for him to be quiet.

And he was. The two both kept silent for a couple minutes where all they heard was the chatters of forest creatures, the slow gust of wind brushing across their faces, and the steady flow of water of the creek beside them. All the while, Graham desperately thought up ways to try to stop her, each becoming more worse than the last one.

Nothing else logical or persuasive came to mind. Finally, he decided to just tell her the truth about everything, how he truly felt about her. It was tough, but he took a deep breath and began.

"Snow," he whispered softly; soft enough to not disrupt their "hunt", but not so soft that she couldn't hear him. "The reason why I hesitated to kill you by your stepmother's orders is simple. I realized that you, deep within your soul, have the purest heart of any being I have ever met, man or beast. You see goodness inside others, sometimes even if they can't see it themselves. You've grown to be a wonderful…friend to me over these past few months. You can't change who you are and by committing this act of…evil, it had the potential to change you. Please, Snow. I-I lov-"

The sound of hooves pounding on the trail in the distance filled the silence in the air. It startled Graham, for he had not been prepared for this abrupt change in their surroundings. Within a minute or so, it would pass by them.

"This is it," Snow said in an excited tone, keeping her voice low. "We'll cut down a tree and that'll promptly stop their carriage. While they're busy looking at what happened, I'll jump in and steal a couple of jewels or whatever they have in there. Then, we'll make a run for it. Got that?"

Graham's eyes widened in shock. "Did you even listen to what I just said?"

"Hmm?" she muttered, looking at him in a dazed expression and then realizing what he had just said. "Oh, yes. Something about…me having a good heart or something. Thanks, now let's go!"

He couldn't believe it. She was actually willing to do this? After all he had said to her?

"Snow, please-" he desperately cried out, but to no prevail. She was about to initiate her plan when she finally realized Graham hadn't made the slightest move from where he was.

"What the hell are you doing?" she said in a hushed tone. "Aren't you coming?"

Graham found his strength and figured this would be the last opportunity he would have to stop her from starting this horrendous life of crime. He had to take it.

"No, wait. I'm…I told you once before last night you can't just-"

"Are you coming or not?" she rudely interrupted, glancing at the carriage that was just about to come their way.

"I-no. I just…I don't want to help you if you're going to be like this…"

The second he said that was the very second he wished he could have taken it back. It wasn't an insult, but he was sure that Snow would misunderstand what he had meant by it.

True enough, Snow's expression looked not only furious, but a hint of disappointment came upon it as well. Tears that symbolized just how upset she was glistened at the brim of her hazel eyes, waiting to be released. He desperately thought up any ways he could reverse back and correct what he had just said, but he thought of none.

"Fine, have it your way. I don't need your help anymore; I can take care of myself. Good-bye…huntsman."

With that, she took off at a fast sprint, her ebony hair flowing in the summer breeze. Graham ducked down into the shrubbery just a moment later when the carriage passed by. He knew the young princess was stubborn and bound to catch this one, but he hoped she wouldn't. The very second she was out of his sight and the very second he could not hear the pounding of the horses' hooves on the trail anymore was when he let down his guard.

He covered his face with his hands and tried to staunch the flow of tears that escaped his eyes. He didn't make any sound (except for the occasional sniffle), but it seemed to take forever until the flow of his relentless tears stopped coming.

Over in the distance, he heard an earth-shattering thud and he assumed that Snow had cut that tree down. The horses whinnied, possibly due to their sudden startle. Moments later, a shrill scream of a woman pierced the air. He wondered if it was Snow, but then pushed that thought out; she didn't scream like that and he'd never, in months, seen her even the least bit frightened. Then, all Graham could hear from the shrubbery were the muffled sounds of a skirmish. He then stood up and slowly made his way out of the vicinity, for he didn't feel like staying behind to "witness" Snow's victory…or defeat.

* * *

A heavy heart is the worst of all the illnesses that plagues humankind.

For many weeks, Graham endured this sickness that overcame him. The fun of a hunt out with the wolves just wasn't the same without Snow White by his side, brightening up even the darkest of days. The sadness he felt without her was unlike any emotion he had experienced in his whole life.

The very thoughts of what could have happened to her frightened him. He felt like attempting to find her, but how? He hadn't the slightest of clues as to how to find her; he could search the darkest corners of the Earth, the highest peaks of mountains for years and years…and for what? He, given the probabilities at hand, wouldn't even find a trace of her.

A couple months later, a day came when he decided to let go of all this misery. This was exactly the type of deceitful acts humans did: murder, stealing, and much more. As he thought more about it, he realized all those months with her had certainly taught him something: the kinder a human being was, the worse they are. He was suddenly reminded of the queen at the thought of the evil acts of humans and wondered if the young princess had unfortunately ran into her…then he realized that it didn't matter to him anymore.

Little did he know, the queen was the very person Snow White was speaking to at that exact moment…

* * *

"The place where it all began."

A silvery fog slowly engulfed the queen's dark image that had, minutes before, been Prince Charming's. It only took moments to consume her until only wisps of the fog remained. Then…it was merely a looking glass again.

Snow White found herself staring straight into her own reflection, specifically her eyes. Dark bags underlined them, indicating stress and a lack of sleep. It was true. All the energy she exerted planning and undergoing this mission of breaking into King George's castle and saving her prince had drained her of every ounce of energy she had…and it had been for absolutely nothing.

The thought of that nearly reduced her to tears, but she forced herself to stay calm. She had the most paranoid of feelings that the queen was still watching her and she wasn't about to reveal such a weakness to her and let her be satisfied. No, it hadn't been for nothing. The queen had struck a new deal with her and she would go to that…parlay. It was the only way to clear up all this petty fighting between her and her stepmother and save Prince Charming. Nothing would stand in her way, not even her own allies.

After all, what was the worst that could happen?

* * *

Graham's life slowly reverted to the way it was before he had become caught up in this whole affair with Snow White and the queen. He found himself caught up in the clutches of his daily struggle for survival. His wolf brothers were, again, company during his daily hunts. Snow White slowly moved farther and farther back into his mind. Gaps of even multiple days passed without the young princess even entering the threshold of his mind.

A day came, however, that would greatly change that. He was out following the trail of a herd of deer migrating south. His wolf brother, the only being accompanying him on this particular hunt, sniffed the dirt in order to inhale the scent of the trail the elk had left. Graham lagged behind, an arrow notched to his loyal bow, prepared to shoot at a moment's notice. The last leaves of the autumn season that lay on the ground crunched under his boots; the crisp air of a new season beginning filled his nostrils.

Winter…it was going to be difficult (just like always), but he would manage. Before he knew it, the sun had reached its highest peak in the sky and it was midday. The two stopped for their midday meal, but the trail would still be fresh, especially to the sharp nostrils of a wolf.

Graham's wolf brother began lapping up the cool, refreshing water from a stream that was casually flowing, almost ready to ice over. Graham, having finished his meal, carefully examined his bow, attempting to find any new signs of damage on it. It was a trusty bow, but age was slowly coming over it. He couldn't afford for it to become more battered up.

A soft cooing sound abruptly jerked him out of his thoughts. It was a beautiful, charming sound that filled his ears. His eyes scanned the vicinity until he found that source of the sound was a white dove. It was resting on a bare tree branch, very vulnerable to its predators.

He was unsure as to how it had come to this particular forest (for he had never seen many doves around here), but he didn't put any more thought on the matter. Lying back against a tree trunk, he closed his eyes and let the gorgeous sound of the bird be the only thing his ears heard. He wished he could stay like this forever.

Then, as sudden as it had appeared, the song stopped. Graham's eyes flew open to find the dove slowly flying away into the distance. He glanced at his wolf brother, glad that he was preoccupied with the stream's water, and began following the dove.

Its beauty entranced him. He was unsure as to what he was planning to accomplish with this, but he never let the bird out of his sight. Once or twice, he lost track of its journey amongst the tops of the trees, but the dove always seemed to reveal itself back to the huntsman…as though it wanted to be followed.

The bird flew off into the expanse of the cerulean sky just as they reached a part of the forest Graham was unfamiliar with. Panting, he realized that this area of the woods led off to clearing that lay on a hillside, a hillside where, currently, a large crowd had gathered.

As the huntsman observed them from afar, he realized that they seemed to be in mourning. Out of plain curiosity, he immediately scaled the tallest tree in the area to provide himself a better view of the situation. He wanted nothing to do with them, but a fathom thought in him drew him closer and closer to those strangers.

The crowd was made up of seven short men, an elderly woman wielding a crossbow, and a young girl swathed in a blood red cloak. They were crowded around a person that seemed to be dead. A closer examination of the person suddenly had the huntsman feel as though his stomach had dropped.

_No, it can't be…_

But even from that distance, there was no mistake that ebony hair, those crimson lips, and that porcelain white skin.

It was Snow White.

**A/N: Special thanks goes out to Ravenclaw992, celestria06, Anuxi, Milarqui, Ni Castle, Guest, harrylee94, and BritannyLS for reviewing! **

**Thanks for reading and I promise you, the next chapter will be updated faster than this one! In the meantime, don't forget to review! :D**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey guys! Thanks SO much for your reviews! I love all the feedback you guys are giving and every single word helps me write more and more! This is a lengthy chapter and the last of the FTL flashbacks so I hope you guys enjoy it! :D**

* * *

Chapter 3

His breath quickened, his palms slowly began acquiring sweat and he was shaking. Shaking so hard, he held on tight to the prickly, rough tree branch in fear that his shock would cause him to collapse to the ground.

Snow White…was dead.

But even from the distance he was standing at, she looked perfectly normal; healthy, even. So why was it that every single person surrounding her looked to be in tears? He yearned to find out more about this.

It was a rough descent from the tree. Graham's desperate hurry to find out what happened to the young princess caused him to receive splinters on his hands and scratches upon his arms. All his negative thoughts towards the princess vanished as the possibility of her demise worried him with every step he took towards her.

He headed down to the grassy hillside, both anticipating and dreading what he would find out. Tears of regret and sadness dared to escape his eyes, but he held them back. He had to find out more before he broke down sobbing. It was the only logical thing to do.

As he climbed the hill, the girl in the red cloak turned at the sound of his footsteps. He paused, wondering if she was going to ask him to leave. To his greatest surprise and relief, her sudden confusion turned to joy within a mere second.

"You're Graham…right?"

He didn't question how she knew his name, but nodded. He didn't notice this, for his eyes only rested on Snow White's face, but everyone else seemed to welcome his appearance. Smiles replaced those upset expressions he had seen from the treetop. Everyone knew him…but that was, most likely, due to Snow.

"Snow told us about you," one of the short men told him. "Before she…"

His voice trailed off as Graham's eyes rested on Snow's face. He tentatively walked up to her and crouched down beside her. He was wrong. Her skin was not the clear, snowy complexion he remembered; she looked pale. The expression set upon her face, despite the fact that her eyes were shut, did not show pain or fear. Instead, it displayed sadness. He closely examined the rest of her body. Her limbs were intact, no gaping wounds were present, and her head was attached to her body.

To any bystander, she could have been sleeping.

"Is she…dead?" Graham nervously asked.

A long silence greeted the outburst of his query. Only the girl dressed in the crimson cloak seemed to have the most reassuring answer.

"We aren't sure. She certainly doesn't look dead, but she's not breathing…. Oh, I'm Red, by the way."

She held out her hand and (_though this was hardly a time for introductions_, Graham thought) he shook it. He yearned to know what had happened to Snow, what had caused her to come into this state, when Red continued introducing everyone.

"And this is Grumpy, Sneezy, Dopey, Happy, Sleepy, Bashful, and Doc," she said, gesturing to everyone. "And this is my grandmother."

At the address of each dwarf, they bowed down and even Granny, who had a vicious weapon in her hand, gave him a curt nod. Never before had he remembered such courtesy paid to him in something as simple as a greeting. He would have felt so happy, belonged…if only Snow wasn't dead.

"What happened to her?" he finally asked, relieved to get that question off his chest.

Red took up the liberty of answering that. "Well…we aren't exactly sure. She agreed to a temporary truce with her stepmother; to find some way to stop all the petty fighting between them…and…and-"

Her dark brown eyes glistened with tears of sorrow. All of her strength was utilized in an attempt to continue speaking, but the werewolf found out she couldn't. Her throat closed up and silent tears began running down her face, which she hastily wiped away upon the hem of her ruby cloak.

"And she killed her," a dwarf continued for her (_Grumpy, _he remembered). "That's all there is to it. She's dead."

The finality of that statement tore the huntsman's heart into pieces. The thought of his heart immediately turned his thought to the queen. Suddenly, every feeling of sadness inside him evaporated…only to be replaced with a vicious urge for revenge.

He vowed that one day, wherever he may be, he would find some way to make that wretched queen pay for everything she had done to Snow White.

* * *

The grief of her death came back to him in a matter of hours. It hit him as powerful the blow of a battering ram to the chest.

The dwarves, Red, and Granny planned to set aside their time to erect a coffin to bury the young princess in. Graham had politely refused to take any part in this…after he had heard about the prince.

Prince Charming (as Red said Snow nicknamed him as) had been the one the young princess been fighting for. Her love for him ran deep through her veins and according to the werewolf, she had done everything in her power to save him after her stepmother had captured him. It wasn't jealousy…though the huntsman couldn't help but feel angry towards a man he had never met. Maybe…maybe he was jealous. She still occupied a spot in Graham's heart, but he couldn't help but feel awkward for his feelings towards her when another loved her as well. Perhaps they were just better off as acquaintances or friends…

He sat at a table in a misty, dark bar one night. Red had informed him that the coffin would be ready by tomorrow morning and they would bury her then. Granny had offered to cook him something for supper, but he had refused. That night, he only yearned to be with one thing: his emotions.

The place was nearly empty. Only half a dozen tables seemed to be occupied in the dark, dank room while he slowly consumed his supper. Just as Graham was about to gulp down a frothy mug of mead, the door creaked open. A blast of cool air came through the door and caused Graham to shiver. The newcomer had only caught the huntsman's attention.

He was a hooded figure; one who extruded a mysterious, ominous force into the room's atmosphere. No one else gave so much as a glance in his direction, but his presence fascinated the huntsman. The phantom walked up to the counter and ordered something, to which the barmaid assented to (despite her obvious fear of him). He chose that exact moment to turn his head towards Graham.

A simple glimpse of the creature tore the huntsman's gaze from him at once. Judging from the evidence under the hood, he was not a normal man. His skin was scaly, like that of a snake's and his hair was as wiry as twigs. His cloak concealed much of his clothing, but he wore a tight pair of pants (leather, perhaps?) upon his skinny legs. The boots that covered his feet were cracked, dull, and ancient.

Frowning at the queerness of this stranger, Graham turned his attention back to his dinner. However, he held a paranoid feeling that this phantom was watching him. Chewing and swallowing his supper suddenly became a difficult task in the presence of this ominous creature. After what seemed like an eternity of awkwardly consuming bland, tasteless food, he looked back at the counter…only to find that the stranger had vanished.

"I thought I might find you here," a sinister voice whispered into Graham's ear.

His reaction was immediate. He jumped, knocking over his mug of mead. It spilled onto the dirty floor and began dripping right on the stranger's thick, coarse boots. He waited tensely, hoping he wouldn't notice or say anything about it.

To his very surprise, the stranger set down a fresh glass of ale in front of Graham and occupied a seat that directly faced Graham. He took a swig from his own glass of ale.

"Good thing I had an extra glass!"

The huntsman curiously observed this strange creature, wondering who (or what) he exactly was. With his hood down, he looked like a hybrid of a reptile and a man due to the coarseness of his skin. The huntsman stared at a couple droplets of sweat upon his forehead, fascinated at their determination and stability upon such reptilian skin.

"You know…I haven't poisoned that glass," the reptile told him, snapping him back to reality. "Bought it from that lovely barmaid…paid full price too!"

Graham cautiously took the glass in his hand. Doubtfully, he sniffed it and then took a tentative sip…then another. And another. It tasted blissfully delectable, relaxing every tense nerve in his body.

"Who are you?" Graham blurted out, finding it rude to ask "what" he was.

The corners of the reptile's mouth stretched widely into what he presumed was a grin. "Oh, sorry! How terribly rude of me! Allow me to introduce myself."

He pushed back his seat and stood. Dramatically, he swished back his cloak and bowed down…with no one even glancing in his direction.

"I am Rumplestiltskin."

Graham frowned, gaining a sudden urge to rub his ears. Had he heard wrong?

"I'm sorry…what was that?"

The reptile sat back down, satisfied with how he had presented himself. He now held a bored expression as though he had attempted to make multiple people comprehend the pronunciation of his name in the past.

"Rum-pl-stilt-skin," he sounded out and then settled back into his seat.

"Right…Rumplestiltskin," Graham slowly repeated. "What did you mean about finding me here?"

"Well…I know all about what has happened to your precious Snow White, dearie, and I can help you…for a price."

A jolt passed through the huntsman's body. "How do you know her?"

He chuckled, "Let's just say…we've dealt some deals a while back."

Graham's hand tightened on his mug. "What…what do you mean by that?"

Rumplestiltskin leaned forward. "I mean…I can help you. You think the princess is dead, right?"

"I know she's dead," he replied glumly.

"Well, you're wrong!" he countered, slapping down on the table and knocking over his glass of ale. It clattered to the floor and spilled over his boots. "Do you know what magic is…Graham?"

Graham's eyes widened. "There really is such a thing?"

Rumplestiltskin giggled, causing a shiver to run down Graham's back. It was certainly a peculiar laugh…

"Well, without 'such a thing', I wouldn't be the man that stands before you today! Magic is the sole reason-"

"How can I bring her back?" Graham cut in, catching on with the idea he had brought up.

Rumplestiltskin leaned back in his seat and tented his fingers, a sinister expression overcoming his reptilian face. "Why, by true love's kiss, of course! All she needs to wake her up and break her sleeping spell is-"

"-A kiss from her true love," Graham finished, his eyes falling down to his mug of ale.

Rumplestiltskin frowned. "Why so glum…oh, I see. Looks like the prince isn't the only one who's taken a fancy to the young princess!"

Graham looked up at the reptile, a face full of worry and jealousy. "Never mind that…the prince is captured. How's he to-"

"Ah, that's where you come in!"

The sorcerer waved his hand and a scroll appeared in it. He unraveled it, revealing large passages of delicate, intricate handwriting and at the bottom was a space reserved for a signature…his signature.

"What…what is our deal?" Graham asked, desperate for some help in this situation.

"You give me permission to help break out the prince from his incarceration and get him to Snow White so he may awaken her. Simple as that."

"What's the price?" he immediately asked.

"Your future wife's firstborn."

A dull silence filled the misty wind of the night that entered through the window. The only sound Graham was aware of was the rapid beating of his heart beneath his ribcage, threatening to burst out. This was the deal he had been anxiously waiting for him to proclaim?

"Why…why do you need my…my…how do you even know I'll have a wife?"

Rumplestiltskin sighed, as though this was a jaded subject. "I can see the future, dearie…but I don't change it. It's only created by the choices you make."

Graham leaned back in his chair and thought this over logically. From what he could see, no other choice was left. He wanted Snow back, to see her smiling face, to see her joyful spirit again…even if she was with the prince. He couldn't have her in this enchanted sleep forever; it was selfish, stupid…no other choice lay in front of him. He had to save her…he just wouldn't marry.

"Do we have a deal?" Rumplestiltskin asked.

"Yes, yes we do." Graham agreed.

The reptile's eyes widened. This was a rather quick decision of his, but he wasn't going to argue with him about it. After all, various people in the past had made quicker decisions of accepting his deals, so who was he to judge? He fashioned a quill and bottle of ink out of thin air and set it in front of the huntsman, waiting for the signature that would deem their deal complete.

Tentatively, his hand unscrewed the cap of the inkbottle and he picked up the quill. He kept telling himself that he was doing the right thing with this. By writing off his chance to find true love in his life, he would save the life of the young princess…whatever the price may be for him. Just as he was recalling how to sign the name that Snow White had dubbed him as, Rumplestiltskin cut in.

"Oh, almost forgot. You need to do one more favor for me-it's really simple."

"What?" Graham asked impatiently.

The reptile leaned forward. "When Snow White has awakened and the battle to get their kingdom back is over, they will imprison me in the dungeons of their castle. _You _need to remind Snow that I'm the only one who can see into the future; who can see what will happen. Is that clear? I'll send you a note when the time comes."

This only confused the huntsman further, but he nodded. Anything to save her life. Slowly, he found his hand dipping the quill into the inkbottle and pressing it against the line that was reserved for his signature. When the first droplet of ink appeared upon the parchment, it came to his realization that there was no turning back now. Just as Snow had taught him many months ago, he signed his name as hastily as he could, but made sure it was legible.

The second he lifted the eagle-feathered quill from the parchment, a pulse of golden light shone upon the document and it vanished…along with the quill, inkbottle, and Rumplestiltskin.

"It has…begun," the reptile's voice whispered out of the air and then the chatter of the tavern suddenly filled the huntsman's ears again. He looked in front of himself, only to find his half-eaten supper and the frothy mug of mead he had knocked over onto Rumplestiltskin's boots when he had arrived.

It was as though he had never been there.

* * *

"You don't have to worry. I will _always_ find you."

Their love, their chemistry, and even the endearing way they looked at each other: it all sickened him. However, something inside him made it tolerable to endure this. Maybe it was just the joy of seeing her smiling face again: to see her awake.

"Graham."

Her airy voice snapped him out of his thoughts; she had finally acknowledged his presence. It was about time.

She utilized every ounce of strength her body contained to get out of that wretched coffin. The young princess brushed her ebony hair out of her face as she made her way towards Graham and then stopped in front of him, scrutinizing him in a manner that he couldn't quite describe.

Suddenly, she threw her arms around him in a tight embrace that first shocked him, but then only took him moments to return. Even though she had been in that enchanted sleep, her hug was warm and comforting. He never dreamed that she would forgive him like this, but here she was, doing exactly the opposite of what he had expected her to.

"I'm sorry," she finally said to him after letting go and he was shocked to find tears glistening in her hazel eyes. "It was all-"

"Forget the apology," he told her briskly. "It was my fault. Just leave it."

On the contrary, the huntsman yearned to say it was all her fault, but arguing with her was the last thing he wanted to do at that moment. It was sensible to just forgive and forget.

Snow White was bewildered. "What? But…but it was my-"

"Forget it," Graham cut in.

"But I-"

"Forget it," he emphasized, desperately hoping this wouldn't initiate another argument.

A moment later, the young princess beamed and her arms encircled him once again. It suddenly dawned on him how awkward this was in the presence of seven dwarves and a prince and Snow seemed to be thinking something along those lines. She abruptly let go and beckoned the prince to come forth, who had been politely standing by the whole time.

"This is Graham," she introduced. "The huntsman who helped me survive in those woods all those months and risked his life to betray my…my stepmother's orders."

The huntsman waited stiffly, wondering what the prince would do or say. To his greatest surprise, the prince held a grin of the utmost sincerity upon his visage and extended his hand for him to shake. Graham did so.

"Prince James. It's an honor to finally meet you, Graham," he said as the huntsman tried to hide his surprised confusion. "Snow White's told me all about you. I can't thank you enough for sparing her life and then helping her out. Without you, I…I believe Snow and I would never even have met and we are both forever in your debt."

His revelation completely caught the huntsman off his guard. He had been expecting something exactly the opposite of what Prince James had just thanked him for. Instead, he had treated him as kindly and noble as he would anybody else. He could also see the sincerity and joy in his sapphire blue eyes and if the eyes were the windows to the soul, then they were telling him the truth. Every jealous feeling towards the prince evaporated into thin air and he was left to wonder why he had any hostile feelings towards him in the first place.

And while the newly reunited couple exchanged loving looks with one another, he couldn't help but feel gladly responsible for this…though he vowed never to tell a living soul about his deal with Rumplestiltskin.

* * *

It all passed by in a blur: their feud with the queen, getting back their kingdom, Snow and Charming's wedding…

But there came a day that he would never forget: the day they knighted him as captain of their castle's guard.

It was a difficult decision for the two monarchs to make, considering that he hadn't even taken an apprenticeship at a young age…but from the loyalty he had showed them in the war and all he had done for them, it turned to be no difficult task for them.

Graham knew that several other knights willed this position and he knew they were furious (or at the very least, envious), but the feeling of joy that grew inside him that day compared to no other emotion he ever experienced before.

It was a day branded into his memories for the rest of his existence.

* * *

"Can I come in?"

Snow White turned away from the balcony and nodded, a smile replacing an expression that he was certain was somber just moments before. Her hand rested on a large bump on her stomach, indicating a pregnancy of several months.

Graham tightly clutched a note in his hand and hid it from her view, casually moving his arm to his side. He had found it by his bedside table that morning and it only consisted of three hastily scribbled words:

Remember our deal.

It sparked a memory of a year ago and it didn't take long for him to realize who had written it. He was racking his brain now to figure out how to subtly tell Snow about Rumplestiltskin and then…the first part of his debt to the reptile would be paid.

"What do you think of the nursery?" Snow asked, making her way towards him.

Graham looked around, just realizing the contents of the newly finished room. This was a room that had been an arsenal of weaponry, but now, it was completely the opposite. A wooden brown crib stood at the center of the room, adorned with multiple cream-colored blankets and a glittering, crystal mobile above it, comprised of creatures, such as unicorns and griffins, to simply amuse the baby. Various toys and stuffed animals lay scattered about the floor, where cushions lay to prevent any harm of the baby from the stone floor. A rocking chair and multiple drawers occupied one side of the room. The essence of the room simply held a warm, comforting tone to it; where the young heir or heiress would spent their childhood days before growing up and taking the responsibility of the kingdom in his or her own hands.

"It's wonderful. I think-"

His voice trailed off just as his eyes caught Snow's expression. That question of hers was simply rhetorical and it was meant to avert his attention from how Snow was feeling today. Her hazel eyes displayed an emotion of worry, sorrow, and fear. It was something he had never seen from her before. One hand rested on the baby's crib while the other still lay on the bump formed upon her stomach from the baby in the womb, deep in thought.

"What's wrong, Snow?" he questioned.

She hastily turned and adopted an expression on her face of the utmost boredom.

"There's absolutely nothing wrong. Why are you here?"

Which immediately made the huntsman think the exact opposite. He sighed and made his way towards her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"It's the queen again, isn't it?"

"How's it even going to be possible?" she blurted out. It seemed that she had yearned to get this thought off of her chest for quite sometime, but something had permitted her. "How can Charming and I raise a child _and _keep a kingdom under our hands with Regina's threat always lurking in the darkness?"

Graham thought this over for a moment and then felt somewhat joyful that she had confided this into her. He responded with an indefinite thought.

"But…we haven't seen her since the day you and King James got married, which was…five or six months ago, right?"

"Exactly," Snow agreed. "It's not like her to stay low for so long. Remember the war where we tried to get back the kingdom? She was too impatient and the longest amount of time she stayed down was a couple of weeks."

She began pacing the room in a worried manner and Graham took a seat in the rocking chair. This looked like it would take sometime.

"My only thought," Snow continued. "is that she's actually serious about her threat. She was very vague about it when she invaded our wedding: 'everything you love will be taken away from you and from your suffering will arise my victory.' What the bloody hell is that even supposed to mean?"

The huntsman raised his eyebrows; he hardly ever heard Snow White curse, but the pressure had really gotten to her. He suddenly became aware of the note he was tightly grasping in his right hand and an idea dawned on him.

"Maybe we should speak to someone who actually knows about the queen and her plans…or who could know."

Snow White frowned, a dubious expression coming over her worried face. It was plain obvious that the gears of her mind were working at their maximum speed, trying to make logical sense out of his words.

"Well, I hardly think it'll be easy to seek out such a person…after all, they'll have to be working alongside her and if not, we've already captured them…or they're dead."

The huntsman nodded in agreement, but then realized what he was doing. No reason was there for him to be subtle in bringing the subject up to Rumplestiltskin. He wasn't working in league with that reptile and they certainly trusted him.

"What about Rumplestiltskin?" he asked a bit too quickly for his liking.

Snow's face lit up with joy and comprehension for a fraction of a second but it quickly disappeared as if someone had snuffed the candle that lit the happiest of her emotions. Instead, it was replaced by the expression of doubt and worry that had been there moments before.

"Well, we could…oh, what am I saying? Charming would never agree to it," she muttered, more to herself than Graham and then turned to the huntsman. "And even if we ask him something as simple as the time of day, he'll always come up with a misappropriate price. He _always _asks for a price."

The thought of a price of one of Rumplestiltskin's deals made his stomach churn. The future price he had to pay in order to bring Snow back from the dead hardly ever crossed his mind these days. But on the rare occasions it did, a sick feeling came over him; he would receive a queer urge to regurgitate the contents of his stomach. Now, he voluntarily pushed back the thoughts so much, it was slowly becoming instinct.

But it would be horrible to see a friend pay a price of Rumplestiltskin's for a simple deal. He cursed himself in his mind; why did he even suggest this?

Snow sighed in frustration and finally completed her musing.

"Damn it…you know what?" she turned to Graham. "Any price of Rumplestiltskin's is worth paying to ensure the safety of our child.

Graham was about to open his mouth to debate this, but then found that he couldn't. An eternity could be spent attempting to talk her out of something he had talked her _into _and it still would be to no prevail.

If there was one thing the huntsman had learned in his experience of growing up in woods, it was that any creature or beast (no matter the size) would always fight hard for the safety of their child. Nothing in the world would be able to stop them from attacking if they felt that the life of their precious offspring was threatened. Unfortunately, too many unflattering experiences had taught him this.

And, unless he was quite mistaken, Snow would also do everything in her power to prevent harm from coming to her child…even if it meant paying one of Rumplestiltskin's deals.

"So…are you going to do it?" Graham asked, finally standing up from the rocking chair and wincing. His time in the castle had made him adept at sitting on softer surfaces and the chair was much too rough for his liking.

"Yes…yes, I will." Snow replied with a smile forming on her face as she turned to the huntsman. "I really can't thank you enough Graham."

"For what?" he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Not just this, but…I don't think we-Charming and I-quite repaid you for everything you've done. Years and years ago too. I…really don't think we could ever repay it-"

"Snow, how many times have I told you not to bring this up?" he cut in, making to exit the room. He never really liked it when people complimented him that much, especially when they were friends.

"Many times, actually," Snow admitted with a soft chuckle. "But you never did quite explain to me why you…spared my life all those years ago. You could've killed me and would've received all the riches and treasures Regina had to offer. Instead, you're on our side now…not that I'm complaining, of course! Just…why?"

She curiously stared at him and a feeling of trepidation grew over him. It was a question he hoped she would never say. His mind was at a blank as he attempted to figure out how to word his thoughts; thoughts that had been stored in the dark, dusty recesses of his mind for so long.

"I just…I did it, because…because it was the right thing to do Snow. We've come a long way since then, haven't we?" he added, hoping to steer the conversation away from that subject.

Surprisingly, the princess sighed, obviously reminiscing about those times he had mentioned. "True…we have, haven't we? I'm now ruling this kingdom and you're the captain of the knight's guard now."

The huntsman nodded and added wistfully, "You're right, but sometimes…sometimes I wish things went differently."

Snow frowned. "What do you mean? Things…between us?"

Unwillingly, a scarlet shade of blush overcame Graham's face. He attempted his best to conceal it, but Snow noticed. Comprehension dawned upon her face and she gasped, putting her hand over her mouth.

"Oh Graham," she whispered. Judging from her expression, she was on the verge of tears. They glistened upon the barrier of her hazelnut eyes, threatening to escape. An odd sound emitted from her throat; she sounded like she was trying to stop herself from crying.

"Snow, listen." Graham quickly explained as lone droplets of saline liquid began escaping her eyes and slowly trickling down her face. "When the queen ordered me to kill you, I was a recluse. I cared nothing for humans, but when I met you, it was different. You had a pure heart and you treated me nicely. I couldn't help it; you were the first person who actually treated me like a friend and…I guess I developed feelings for you…but that was long ago, Snow. I don't harbor any romantic feelings for you at the moment, we're friends."

Snow brushed away the remnants of tears upon her face and cleared her throat; she put her hands upon his shoulders and smiled; no tears to be seen in her eyes.

"I thought so. But…I'm sorry. When Regina married my father, she went out of her way to try to convince me that love wasn't real. It was only fitting that the notion stuck in my mind. Since I had destroyed her chance to have true love in her life, she wanted to destroy mine…and she still does."

She took her hands away from his shoulders and, despite the ominous remark she had just made, her grin seemed to be even brighter.

"But I know that someday, you will find that special someone…and they will be a very lucky person to have you in their life."

Graham nodded, brushing away a tear from the corner of his eye.

_"Snow isn't usually emotional like this; it must be the hormones,"_ he thought.

Immediately, she embraced him. Though the bump of the fetus in her womb kept them apart at a distance, he still felt her warmth and joy being passed on to him in this hug. He felt better; having admitted something he had wanted to in quite sometime.

The door to the nursery creaked upon and the two broke away to find Prince Charming standing at in the doorway. Bewilderment showed on his expression (and his eyebrows raised) when his cerulean eyes saw the two of them hugging, but he did not question it.

Snow let go of him after a couple more moments and she grinned in such a manner that it didn't look like she had been crying many moments before at all. Graham, on the other hand, sensed that Charming wanted to speak to his wife and knew it would definitely be rude to barge in on their private conversation.

Nodding curtly to the prince, he headed out of the nursery, unable to control the smile growing on his face with every step he took.

* * *

He was supposed to be on guard duty with Grumpy and he _was_. He was just asleep. The patrol duty he had decided to take over the previous night had taken a chunk out of the sleep and energy he normally would have.

He was the captain of the guard; no one else would dare tell him what to do…except Snow and Charming.

According to them and a couple of their loyal spies that had been hiding out near the queen's palace, Regina's curse was to be released any day now…and Snow was going to have to be transported to another world in order to raise her child who, according to Rumplestiltskin, was their savior, the one destined to break the curse twenty eight years into the future. Until then, everyone under the curse would be trapped in time in a land without magic while Regina ruled them all…

The mere idea seemed preposterous to Graham at first, but evidence shown to him only made him realize it was actually true…

He tried not to think about it. Every time he did, a shiver would crawl up his backside as though he had been doused in icy cold water. He, along with Snow, knew of the horrors the queen had done to them and he could only imagine what torture Regina planned for them all in the new world…

But the curse didn't cross his mind that day as he was on guard duty. The only thing he yearned to do was catch up on the rest he had missed last night…

"Wake up!" a voice hissed in his ear.

Graham's abrupt effort to stand up with his eyes half open only succeeded in him slamming his head hard against the stone wall behind him. Eyes watering in pain and his head throbbing, he made his way to where Grumpy was: standing in front of the battlements, scanning the area with a telescope.

"What's going on?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"The curse."

These two simple words immediately had him vigilant and he wretched the telescope out of Grumpy's hands (much to the dwarf's annoyance) and peered in the distance. Sure enough, an ominous purple cloud of magic was visible…and it was heading straight towards them.

His heart began pounding furiously that he felt as though it was going to explode straight out of his chest. It was happening…it was _actually _happening…

"Go, go!" Grumpy yelled, making his way to the giant metal bell, so he could ring it and alert the land of the imminent curse.

The huntsman sprinted down from the castle's rooftops and sprinted down as fast as he could to Snow and Charming's bedroom to alert them of this grave event that they had all been dreading.

* * *

"Just guard the entrance of the castle with everyone else, Graham. We'll be fine. Just go!"

The prince's frantic yell wasn't enough to obscure Snow White's screams of childbirth. Her face was drenched with sweat. The pain was torture for her; the huntsman couldn't get her screams out his head as the princess desperately tried to push the baby out of her womb. To send the child away to the unknown…

Never had the huntsman remembered being so stressed and worried, but he reluctantly followed the prince's order and sprinted down to the castle's entrance. He tried his best, pushing himself as fast as he could, but when he got down there, it was too late. As he came to a stop, a gruesome scene met his eyes.

It was hell, pure hell. Knights dressed in armor as dark as night were slaying every single being they could set their eyes upon. The majority of their soldiers lay dead upon the ground, whether it be in pools of their own blood or surrounded by their own fractured limbs. The remaining knights that stood either fought valiantly (but it was obviously they were slowly being defeated) or retreating in terror.

Regina's army.

Breathing heavily, Graham did something he was not proud of and regretted many years later; he retreated. A nearby broom closet proved to be an adequate, temporary sanctuary and he locked himself in there, listening to the faded sounds of battle at the entrance of the castle.

Many moments later, the huntsman was almost positive it was over. He opened the door cautiously to no more than a fraction of a centimeter when he heard the cackle of a person he had feared, a person he hadn't seen in quite some time.

The queen.

She seemed to be accompanied by several of her knights and they all seemed rather pleased. He shut the door and when he was sure they were gone, he opened it back only to find an imminent dark purple cloud of magic coming their way to transport them all to another land, a land without magic.

The Dark Curse.

* * *

**A/N: Special thanks goes out to: Ravenclaw992, diddykongfan, HarryLee94, Anuxi, Rlefay, Ghostwriter, tate4eva, Princesakarlita411, and Guest for reviewing!**

**Just one thing I want to say. This is the first actual story I have published on this site (the first two were just one-shots) and all the followers, reviews, and favorites I've been getting are really helping me with my writing. This idea had been something on my mind for quite sometime I know you all can't wait for the "Storybrooke" portion of this fanfic. I can't thank you all so much! :D**

**Please leave a review to tell me what you thought of this chapter! Seriously, even something as simple as "good chapter" or "you can improve on..." will really help me. **

**Have a great day! :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks so much for all your reviews! Seriously, can't thank you all enough to everyone who's reviewing, favoriting and following this story. Enjoy this chapter! :D**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

_28 years later…_

**~Emma~**

Life had never been perfect for Emma Swan.

As a child, she moved this way and that way; from foster home to foster home. When she was out of that wretched system, she made a living as a thief. Pretty soon afterwards, she became the very antithesis of that: a bounty hunter.

She couldn't remember a time where she had felt at home, felt that she belonged, felt a part of a loving family. No records or traces of her birth parents had been found through the course of a lifetime of searching, searching…and more searching.

It was a paradox to her, a puzzle of sorts. She had to come into this world someway. Therefore, she must have parents. She wasn't ready to give in to the tedious, difficult work of searching…yet.

* * *

"Another banner year."

The vanilla frosted cupcake seemed to be mocking her. It was so sweet, so comforting…when the essence of her life was the very opposite. It was topped with a blue candle-shaped star that she had lit with the flick of a match. Her blond hair fell over her tired face as she leveled herself with the counter, putting her head on her arms, staring into the fiery depths of the candle's light as though it could solve the answer to all the problems that plagued her life.

She racked her brain in order to figure out a wish. At this age, it seemed stupid, childish…pointless even. But it gave her a comforting feeling inside, a feeling that everything was going to be all right. She thought and thought…then something clicked into her mind. She knew _exactly _what she should wish for.

_I wish that…that-I hope that I don't spend the year alone…like I spent last year._

With a puff of her fatigued breath, the candle was extinguished and the dark, lonely feeling of her apartment was reestablished. The delightful scent of vanilla filled the air, tempting her taste buds. Emma longed to have a bite; she hardly had anything to eat since breakfast…but before she could so much as take the wrapper off, there came a knock on her door.

The brow of her forehead creased into a baffled frown. Who could it be at this hour? A second knock followed; this one was much more persistent and somewhat demanding. With a roll of her eyes, she mentally cursed whatever idiot stood outside her door at that moment. Unwillingly, she made her way to the door and opened it.

At first glance, Emma believed it to have been either a prank or something she had imagined; no one appeared to be there. But when she looked down, a young boy of no more than ten years of age was standing there.

He had sandy, brown hair and hazelnut eyes; surprisingly, the same shade as hers. Despite the warm weather that night, he wore a thick, dark coat, a red scarf tied around his neck and frayed jeans. A fading, brown backpack that matched the color of his hair was slung onto his shoulder.

"Can…can I help you?" Emma asked, leaning against the doorframe to block the view of her living room.

"Are you Emma Swan?" the boy responded without hesitation; as though he had rehearsed this.

"Uh…yeah. Who are you?"

"My name's Henry. I'm your son."

_Son…_the word echoed in her ears as she stood there, gaping at him. She thought she had heard wrong. After all, the fatigue that was slowly coming over her was more than enough pressure to drop her to the ground right there and snore away. Obviously, the said pressure of her tiredness _must _have traveled to her ears as well.

Or…it could have just been a prank, just as she had initially perceived it as. If so, it was the oddest, rudest prank Emma had the misfortune to be a part of. Just as she was about to slam the door right in his little face, the kid pushed past her and walked straight into her living room; it was as though she had invited him.

"Hey kid…kid!" Emma called after him, making her way towards him as he went into the kitchen. "I don't have a son."

The response seemed feeble, unconfident…but what else could she say? Her mind was addled with a deep sense of tiredness and she wish for nothing more in the world than to have this child out of her sight. This kid must have been mistaken.

Unfortunately, for her, he was prepared for that inquiry too.

"Ten years ago," he countered, a mischievous yet familiar smile appearing upon his face. "Did you give up a baby for adoption?"

It all flooded back to Emma: the watches, the time she spent in jail and the tedious hours of labor she endured to birth that thief's child. Her eyes widened in realization as she came to comprehend that she was witnessing something she had never foreseen would occur. The second, the very second, she had given up this baby for adoption, it had been a vow to herself. A vow to let go of that wretched year she spent locked up because of that life of crime. But now, as this baby stood in front of her, she figured that there was a possibility that he would find her; it was foolish to think that giving him up meant a lifelong farewell.

"That was me."

A wave of nausea came over her…or was it a sudden urge to cry? Either way, it was hardly a proper salutation.

"Give me a moment."

She darted to the bathroom and firmly shut the door behind her. Instinctively, her hands grasped the edge of the porcelain white sink, studying herself in the mirror and attempting to control her rapid breathing. The creature that glared back at her had a hodge-podge of emotions displayed upon their weary face: angry, confusion, sadness, shock…the list went on.

"Do you have any juice?" Henry called out from the kitchen, knocking Emma out of her train of thought. "Never mind, found some!"

Emma focused on herself in the mirror; she couldn't afford to have any emotions of weakness showing on her face. She attempted to display a calm, normal demeanor and after many moments, she felt equipped enough to face Henry…her _son._

She came out of the bathroom to find him drinking straight out of her last bottle of orange juice. Making a mental note to buy a new jug as soon as she could, Emma cleared her throat and pushed her hair out of her face, prepared to give this boy what she hoped he would find to be a strict talk.

But before she could even do so much as open her mouth, Henry spoke. "You know, we should get going."

Emma frowned. "Going where?"

"I want you to take me back home," he simply asked, again without any hesitation, as though he expected her to follow his requests without putting up a fight.

This wasn't what Emma had been expecting from such a kid. The shock upon her visage was unmistakable, but it was quickly replaced by a sense of superiority and control as she swiftly crossed the room and picked up her phone.

"That's it, kid. I'm calling the cops."

"Then I'll tell them you kidnapped me," he immediately replied.

_Darn, this kid's good._

"And they'll believe you, because I'm your birth mother, right?" Emma asked, wanting to be clear of his intentions.

"Yep," he smirked.

Emma leaned forward and mimicked the expression upon his face. "Look, you're good, but here's the thing; I may not be good at a lot of things in life, but I have a…a skill. Let's call it a 'superpower'."

She paused for dramatic effect only to realize this statement of hers didn't at all perturb him. Trying to hide the sheer disappointment upon her visage, she continued.

"I can tell when _anybody _is lying…and you, kid, _are_."

Emma's finger dialed the "9" and the first "1" and her finger hovered above that last, vital digit before Henry stopped her, this time in a pleading, defeated tone.

"Wait, don't call the cops. Please? Come home with me."

Emma narrowed her eyes and ended the call. Setting down the phone, she crossed her arms.

"And where would 'home' be?"

"Storybrooke, Maine."

The narrowness of her eyes deepened to their maximum power; what type of a town had a name like that?

"Storybrooke…seriously?"

Henry had already made his way to the door, his hand resting on the doorknob; the expression upon his visage could clearly be read.

_Do you think really that I'm making this up?_

Emma sighed and looked around to detect where she must have misplaced her keys.

"Ok, then…let's get you to Storybrooke."

* * *

**~Mary Margaret~**

She hated being on the evening shift, especially after a long day of teaching.

Mary Margaret stifled a yawn as she set down yet another vase of flowers in front of a patient. This one, unsurprisingly, was also asleep, so no sign of gratitude extruded from him…not that she minded, of course.

With a weary sigh that she hoped no one would hear, she took the last vase of flowers and headed through the door of that coma patient; the hospital's only John Doe.

Like always, the only sound in that room was the steady beeping of the heart monitor, indicating to the rest of the world that life still rested within the fragile body of this man. It seemed eerie to Mary Margaret, but her compassion for this stranger and the state of his health made the irrational fear evaporate from her mind.

John Doe's appearance hadn't changed; the pale visage held an expression clean of any emotions and his dirty blond hair was uncombed and messy.

Mary Margaret gently set down the flowers and brushed her finger softly against his check. He'd been here as long as her mind could recall and it pained her to see anyone living like this. Surely, he had family that cared about him and were attempting to find him?

Something familiar about him always seemed to attract her attention to him, but she could never quite place it. It always felt as though she had personally known him before the coma, but every time she attempted to place those memories into logical sense, they were always a bit foggy…

* * *

She was walking to her car when it happened.

Mary Margaret took out her keys from her purse, intending to allow herself access to her car. Just as the key had been placed into its hole, a flash of golden light whizzed by her on the street, momentarily blinding her where she was on the sidewalk.

A moment's observation caused her to realize that it was simply a canary yellow car with its headlights on to its maximum power.

She frowned; from what she could remember, no car that joyful, bright color had ever existed in Storybrooke. They were all dull and drab, much like hers. Maybe it was a newcomer, but how? No tourists had visited Storybrooke in quite sometime.

Shaking the thought out of her head, Mary Margaret got into her car and headed home.

* * *

**~Regina~**

"I found my real mom!"

Her son wretched himself out of the firm grasp she had held him in and pushed past her and Sidney, sprinting for his room. Regina sighed in frustration; this was what she got for having that wretched imp procure a son for her. Certainly, the saying was true: if one wanted something done right, they had to do it themselves.

The mayor locked eyes with her sheriff, who was staring mindlessly into the distance. She cleared her throat and Sidney shook with a jolt like that of an electric shock. She didn't speak, for she didn't know exactly how this stranger was like, but Sidney had gotten a hold of a knack of interpreting one of her many glares. This one, obviously meaning "leave us alone", was comprehended in less than half a minute. The sheriff nodded and headed off into the mansion.

Regina smiled; that was a new record.

Now, the former queen turned to this woman. It didn't take a genius to figure out the words of her son…his _real _mother? Hastily, she formed what she hoped was a benevolent and kind smile upon her face.

"I'm sorry, you're…Henry's birthmother?"

"Hi," Emma smiled.

Regina could sense nervousness in her tone of voice and she resisted the urge to smirk. Something familiar about this woman caused her to put her guard up; she hadn't seen her in Storybrooke before.

Then again…this was a large town and she, despite being mayor, certainly couldn't remember the face of every single soul that lived here. But there was something opposing about this woman; she was definitely an enemy. However, she had to offer her hospitality first.

"How would you like a taste of the best apple cider you'll ever taste?"

* * *

**~Graham~**

The search to find his wolf brother had taken days now.

His cabin seemed so empty without the only friend in his life. Just as he did every night, he lit the fireplace and settled down in his favorite armchair, allowing his mind to be transported to a new realm and world with the aid of a fascinating novel. Occasionally, he would sip from his steaming hot cup of tea or take a bite out of a couple of biscuits that served to be his supper.

Life was frugal here, but he was satisfied with it and wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world.

The fire merrily crackled, its bright orange flames consuming the thick logs he had gathered from the forest days before. The temperature of the only room in his cabin gradually increased, installing a homey, calm atmosphere inside it and its inhabitants. From outside, the occasional hubbub of forest animals could be heard as they went about their nocturnal activities. A full moon peacefully shone down, bathing them all in a heavenly golden light.

Graham reached the end of a chapter and marked his spot. He drank the lasting dregs of his tea and then leaned back, closing his eyes. This was exactly where he felt at home, felt at peace…he allowed himself to relax and absorb his thoughts towards the reverberation of the creatures just within mere steps of his door.

He heard the hoot of an owl, the screech of an unknown bird, the chirping of cicadas…and the howl of a wolf.

Graham shot up from the comfort of his ancient furniture so quick, he received a crick in his neck. Wincing and rubbing it profusely, he realized that this wasn't just any wolf. He'd recognize that voice even from the depths of his unconsciousness.

It was his wolf brother.

He ran forth and wretched open the closet door, haphazardly throwing on the first coat his eyes spotted. He then grabbed a flashlight from a nearby table and sprinted out the front door, his visage immediately becoming victim to the piercing, icy cold air of the night.

It took him a good ten meters away from his cabin door and into the forest to realize that he wasn't wearing any shoes. His bare feet were repeatedly being pricked with not only the fierce, chilly air of the night, but the twigs and branches that lay scattered about the forest floor. Dirt slowly began covering every inch of his feet, making them very filthy.

He cursed his stupidity; putting on a coat yet not having the sense to throw on a pair of boots was the oddest, stupidest thing he had ever done. He had half a mind to turn back now, but another distant howl of his wolf brother prevented him. He had to find him.

He trekked forth, ignoring every stab of pain that occasionally pierced his already rough, callused feet. No distant howls pierced his ears anymore, but intuition and a strong sense of faith led him to where he desperately hoped his friend was. The flashlight was the only source of hope in spotting him in this darkness. He combed every direction of every inch of this forest. Every step brought his feet more agony, more pain…but his eyes rested on the area combed by the light, desperate for results.

He finally came across a clearing. At least, he believed it was a clearing until he saw the sign looming above his head.

_Welcome to Storybrooke._

A knife of dread pierced straight through his heart as his eyes fixed themselves over a sign they had not met in quite sometime. He usually refrained from going into town no more than once a month, unless an urgent matter lay in front of him. Graham looked down from his sign and looked across the street; he had to rub his eyes to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

A small, bright yellow car had crashed into the sign and evidently had slid right across the street. The symbol of greeting in Storybrooke now lay tilted at an angle.

Curiously, Graham made his way across the small street and peered through the window of the car. He wasn't at all shocked to find an unconscious person in there, slumped against the steering wheel. Pulling open the door, he shined the flashlight into the car.

It was a woman; the wavy, blond hair of her head falling over onto her visage, obscuring her expression. Swathed in a red leather jacket and jeans, her hand rested on a book that lay on the shotgun seat.

Graham pulled the tome out of her grasp and examined the cover; a plain brown one, it was, bearing the title.

_Once Upon a Time_

He was just about to crack it open and would have loved nothing more than to sit there and read it, but a flash of her bright hair came into his view and Graham immediately focused on the task at hand.

He didn't have much knowledge or expertise when it came to automobiles, so he couldn't tell if the car had broken down, unable to move its tires an inch forth. He was, however, skilled when it came to figuring things out. This woman had obviously crashed here accidentally, but whether it be from an intoxication of alcohol or fatigue, he was unsure. Despite when he didn't know, he was indubitably sure of one thing.

This person needed help.

A howl came from behind him and he jolted, only to find his wolf brother bounding towards him, obviously eager to jump into his arms after their period of time apart. Joy came over Graham instantly, but he knew the reunion could wait. The task at hand prevented him from hugging the merry canine, but he gave him a comforting pat of the head.

He debated on whether to help out this stranger or not until his good-natured side won out.

His feet would definitely have blisters in the morning.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading and don't forget to review! And I promise you all, there will be some adorable Huntswan moments in the next chapter and definitely in the next few chapters! :D**


	5. Chapter 5: Author's Note

**Guys, I'm so sorry for the long wait. I just...have no true explanation for it. Schoolwork, extracurricular activities, and so many more things have been weighing me down. But I promise I won't give up on this story. **

**Expect an update by the end of this month. That's a deadline that I can totally reach. And thanks so much for all your support. Words can't describe just how happy I am to have so many people who've put this story on their favorites list or are following it. (and it's just my first story! :D)**

**See you guys by the end of October! :D**


End file.
